Tag: bar

The redhead plays pool at the table adjacent to us. She leans on the table, stick aiming, intense concentration. I’m envious of those sleeve tattoos—sexy murals frolicking around her pale shoulders and arms. Here’s my chance. We walk over, very slowly, Steve McQueen cool. She glances over. I gaze at her. She doesn’t turn away.

A vintage ’63 BMW motorcycle stands by the curb that belongs to Jarod, one of the bartenders. It’s pristine condition shows his love and obsession for the classic. Except on Mondays, the bike’s here everyday. One unfamiliar with Love’s Lounge would think the bike was the dive’s public artpiece, or as Leonard would say, pubic artpiece. Continue reading →

i was pissed. i wanted to fuck, and know i had my chance with her. but leonard, that old piece of shit, ruined my erection after generously sharing that his foreskin hung two inches over his german helmet. not only were we witnesses to his perverted tales– Continue reading →